


Repetition

by Random_ag



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, Lime, Slice of Life, barely, dont worry, everything is ok for a while and then Oh No, just pls read, like just one part, not even that much, what the hell am i supposed to say. just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 15:58:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18897919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_ag/pseuds/Random_ag
Summary: All of their conversations seemed to start in the same exact way.





	Repetition

“I’m tired."

“Suck it up, Franks.”

Wally’s glare was met by Sammy’s. The latter won, and he went back to work. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m tired.”

“Suck it up, Franks.”

Wally repeated the sentence under his breath, mocking the music director as he mopped the floor in front of his office.

Sammy threw a pen straight into his eye in a fit of anger.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m tired.”

“Suck it up, Franks.”

“I’ve been up since 2am!”

“So have I. Suck it up.”

 

Sammy awoke on a half-finished music sheet with a hot cup of coffee waiting right beside him on his desk, and didn’t even get mad when he found out Wally had fallen asleep on the floor in the middle of the department.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m tired.”

“Suck it up, Franks. We’re almost there.”

Sammy stopped the car in front of the building. Helping the drunk out of his mind janitor to his stumbling feet, he unlocked the front door, and they started going up the stairs, slowly, so goddamn slowly.

“On which floor was your place, again?”

Wally mumbled a number. He turned to the other man, closing any distance there could have been between them with a soft hug, and crashed his face against his cheek: “You’re so pretty.” he groaned softly, one of hands stroking the other’s long hair.

 

The musician dropped him on the sofa and left in an embarassed hurry.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m tired…”

“Suck it up, Franks!”

“There’s no need ta yell!”

“I wouldn’t need to yell if you hadn’t crushed me against my own desk with the weight of your entire body!”

“If ya hate it so much, why don’t you just shove me off?”

“I-” he started, but his words caught themselves in his throat and got stuck there, leaving him to simply grow scarlet in the silence. He could feel a sly smile form just above his head as the pressure increased slightly.

 

Wally fell to the ground like a stupid turtle and was forbidden access to Sammy’s office for a month.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m tired-” 

“Suck it up, Franks.”

They didn’t speak much after that.

Only some words every now and then.

They did breathe a lot. Heavily.

So heavily, it made them shiver and sweat.

It was almost too warm to stand, but it could do for them.

It could do very well.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m tired.”

“Suck it up, Franks.”

He handed him a can of bacon soup, kissing his fingers.

The janitor chugged the whole thing cold and held his hand.

“… Sammy?”

“Yes, Wally?”

Wally leaned against the wall, eyes absent-mindendly taking in the rest of the Studios. None of the three looked like it could stay up on its own.

“Do you… Do you think things here are really… Gonna go to Hell?”

Sammy didn’t answer.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m so tired…”

“I know, my sheep, I know.”

The hand caressing his cheek was so sweet, so loving. He leaned into the touch, wishing he could spend his entire life like that, even if he would have had to be as homeless and hungry as he was now until the day he died.

Fingertips ghosted over his mouth and forehead before running throught his hair and under his nape, holding his head up. A kiss, maybe, pressed intoxicatingly onto his lips while thumbs drew circles on his lobes.

 

“I love you.” Wally muttered, his eyes closed and head rocking aimlessly in the loving grasp, “I love you, I love you, Samuel, I love you…”

“I know, my little, tender sheep.” Sammy hushed him, “I know, and I love you.”

 

He couldn’t do it. Not on his own. He murmured a lullaby into his ears as he moved to a better position behind the body strapped tight on the floor, so that the alcolytes could proceed with the sacrifice. He sang, keeping a hand on his eyes, and kept him quiet and at peace whenever he began shouting in pain until he couldn’t feel his breath on his skin.

 

Love requires sacrifice, he was taught to believe.

 

He regretted every second of his preaching as he looked at his love sinking in the ink, lost forever.


End file.
